Signal Fire
by Betsy86
Summary: Lit. Set in season three. "You have the worlds goofiest laugh....Most guys don't want a girl who figures herself a comedian." Oneshot


**Lit Fluff. Set in season3. **

**I don't own them, I just use and abuse. Those this really isn't abuse!**

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**Signal Fire

Rory Gilmore lifted her head from her boyfriend' shoulder and sat up straight. She glanced from the TV screen where Kate Hudsen was singing an Elton John song and her boyfriend's profile, his eyes firmly settled on the screen.

"We're the worlds most unromantic couple." She moaned, making Jess glance sideways at her.

"Shh." He raised his index finger to her mouth and she grinned before kissing it.

"But seriously, Jess, 'Almost Famous' on Valentine's Day? They cheat on each other, all their love is unrequited. It's a terrible choice for Valentine's!"

"What's your movie choice, cupid?"

"'Casablanca'." She sighed while Jess groaned. "You can't complain about 'Casablanca'!" She swatted his chest.

"You're complaining about my movie." He nodded to the screen.

"Yeah, but 'Casblanca' is a classic. This is so far from being a classic."

"Difference of opinion." He shrugged, pulling her by the wrist and catching her lips with his.

"Big difference." She pulled away, and rest her forehead against his. "We should do something tonight."

"Anything in mind?" He raised one eyebrow and smirked at her, before trying to kiss her again, but she backed out of his reach.

"The Firelight Festival."

"No." He folded his arms across his chest and concentrated on the movie again.

"Come on it'll be fun. You're supposed to do something fun with your significant other on Valentine's Day."

"It's a stupid Hallmark Holiday Rory. And besides, what makes your think you're significant?"

"That fact you're here." She grinned. "And you should come with me, to make up for the fact that I got nothing from Hallmark from you."

"No." He smirked and she sighed in frustration. She picked up the remote and pressed pause.

"Okay, new tact." She smiled at him, "We will do something nice today, and since it's not the festival, in order to placate you'll have to do something else."

He smirked and leaned in towards her, only for his face to collide with her hand. "Not that buster. We each have to say one thing that we like about the other person." He raised his eyebrow in amusement and she continued. "I'll go first."

She shook her hair away from her face, bit on her lip and looked him in the eye. "You have the worlds goofiest laugh."

"What?"

"You do." She giggled, " You stand around town, with your leather jacket, and a cigarette behind your ear, channelling Jason Dean, but the minute you laugh, the facade is broken. It's probably why you don't that often. But you laugh like a five year old. Loud, and uninhibited. And coupled with your crooked smile, the most adorable thing I've ever seen."

She stared at him, waiting to respond, and when he didn't, she looked at her hands, her cheeks a pale pink. "Don't you mean James?"

She looked up, her eyebrows knitted in confusion. "You said Jason Dean." He clarified, "But don't you mean James?"

"Oh, no." She shook her head and smiled. "I meant Jason. You know? Christian Slater in 'The Heathers'."

"Oh. I've never seen it."

"Never?" She sounded shocked and he grinned shaking his head.

"How? We've seen this crappy movie about Kate Hudsen trying to kill herself about sixteen billion times, and we've never once watched 'The Heathers'? Okay change of movie choice. Don't tell my mother I ever said this, but 'Casablanca' is out the window."

And then he laughed. Loud and uninhibited. Like a five year old.

She turned to him, a wide smile plastered across her face, her eyes sparkling.

He snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her to him. Placing a kiss on her neck, he whispered, "I like that you can make me laugh."

She shrugged one shoulder, resting her chin on it so she could look back on him. "Really? Most guys don't want a girl who figures herself a comedian."

"Well, it's not like you've ever intentionally made a joke." He smirked, crashing his lips to hers. She pulled away and whispered back to him, "You'll come to the festival with me?"

"And I stand corrected. An intentional joke."

"Jess, ple-" But he cut her with his lips, and she forgot about their afternoon of movies.

She forgot about the Firelight Festival. The only fire she felt was the blaze left in the wake of Jess' touch.

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